


Family

by anonomnom



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, M/M, Parental Issues, Robron Week 2017, less angst-y than I'm making it sound, mild homophobia, talk of Jack, talk of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:53:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9981731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonomnom/pseuds/anonomnom
Summary: “She raised me, for a while.”“I know,” Aaron whispers, and he does. Robert’s spoken about her before, and in only more depth once he found out that she was coming home. That she was dying. “She’s got a lot to answer for.” He quips gently, and Robert huffs out a surprised laugh.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this months ago - long before SSW - and therefore it’s pretty AU. I really struggle to finish things (please see previous sentence), but when I saw the prompts for robron week, I really pushed myself to complete it – and by some miracle managed to!  
> As usual with me, slight liberties have been taken with the village layout and past events, and even though it’s set around this time, the boys live in Jacob’s Fold.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Robert wouldn’t have thought it possible, but then if there’s one thing Sugdens have, it’s a strong will, and Annie’s the best of them.

She’s spent the last couple of decades in Spain, sunning it and making the most of life, but she comes back to Emmerdale to die. To be buried with her first husband and son and her family, at home.

She’s always been ancient to Robert, but if he’s bluntly honest – even if it’s only to himself – he can’t believe she’s still alive, thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that she’s around.

But as they say, with age comes wisdom, and like so many older people, like the finely evolved instincts of cats and dogs, she apparently knows when her time is up; how this ache differs from all the others, how her life ticks by like an old fashioned stop watch and there’s only days and minutes left on the countdown, not weeks or foggy months.

She knows and she doesn’t hide it. Tells it to Diane straight on the phone, and doesn’t humour either her or Victoria’s refusals.

It’s nearly ten years since Robert last saw her, because even though she’d no longer lived in the village he’d been banished from, everything that made Robert run away and stay away from it was part of her. He regrets it, a little; remembers how she used to look after him when he was young, and how she’d take him in when he and his father clashed yet again.

She looks the same as Robert remembers her, just a little more hunched over, a little more frail, a little more tired of life. They all meet her at the airport – Diane, Vic, Andy, and he – to welcome her back, but she looks on at them with little care or excitement. She accepts a kiss from he and Vic, but doesn’t say much in the car ride to the village.

She’s come for a sole purpose, and if they hadn’t known before, they do now.

When they finally get back to the village – Vic and Diane still gossiping on from filling the silence of the journey – it’s a struggle to get Annie out of the car, but when they do, she just sits in her chair and looks upon Main Street, eyes slowly moving from one building to the next. Her gaze lingers on the differences, but there’s no reaction.

Robert tries to follow her eyes whilst the others take her bags in and cause a general fuss, but he gets distracted when he spots Aaron lingering by their front door, clearly unsure as to whether he’s meant to be looking over at them or acknowledge them at all.

“That house is named after your granddad.” Annie mutters, her voice croaky and static.

“I know,” he replies softly, looking down at her with a smile, though she’s still looking at the building. “I live there now, actually.”

She looks up at him, the tiniest of smiles pulling at her lips, and she raises a shaking hand to pat his arm.

“That’s nice.”

***

It wasn’t as if she’d been tense before – just… fed up of life, Robert supposes – but when she’s settled in an armchair, Annie seems to relax and become more receptive.

She indulges Vic and Diane’s gabbing, she asks Andy about his kids and says that it would be nice to see them tomorrow. Robert joins in, plays his role as big brother and teases Vic, bickers with Andy and Diane’s retelling of old anecdotes. But he doesn’t start any of the topics, doesn’t offer himself up.

Vic talks about how Adam is the son of the owners of their old farm, to which Annie listens to with vague interest, and Andy has them all laughing about how Sarah had nearly poisoned him trying to make him ‘proper French cuisine’.

He thinks about Aaron, looking small and uncertain in his hoodie as he looked up the road at them.

He doesn’t say anything.

Annie knows he’s with a man, probably even knows Aaron’s name, but he wasn’t the one who told her. He’s not ashamed, but he… he guesses he’s scared. That age old fear of disappointing someone, and he doesn’t want to know if she disapproves, if the one person who loved him enough to care for him when no one else would looks at him differently because he loves a man.

She old, and headstrong, and Robert’s not very good at trusting his family.

He also sees Jack in her, and Robert thinks there are burning questions he’s better off not knowing the answers to.

They talk about him, a lot, more than anything else really. It’s not surprising, and Robert doesn’t mind it, it just settles heavy on his shoulders. He has good memories, and he still loves him, but there is a pressure that keeps Robert quieter and his smiles tinted.

Everybody knows it, and they’ve learnt to stop trying to talk to him about things they don’t understand, so it goes mostly unnoticed and un-noted. But a while after Andy leaves, whilst Vic pops out and Diane makes a start on tea, Annie speaks before he can form an escape plan.

“Do you know what the problem with you and Jack was?” Robert’s fairly certain he doesn’t want to hear this conversation, but a terrible inkling of curiosity and the automatic feeling of being a reprimanded child that comes with that tone of Annie’s voice, keeps him quiet and glued to the settee. But when he looks at her, she’s staring out the window, and Robert wonders if actually he’s played any part on bringing this on.

She’s never looked older than in this moment, staring straight and into the past.

“You were too similar. He never used to want to be on the farm, used to chase after girls, even when he was happy with someone. He used to whine and shout about you, and I’d sit there and wonder when it would sink in that this was precisely what he put Jacob and I through. It never did.”

Silence settles, and Robert thinks on her words.

“He didn’t want to work the farm?” He asks quietly. He knew about the other women, remembers with unpleasant distinction catching his dad with Rachel whilst his mum was out shopping. Would sit in stewing resentment after Jack chewed him out for Katie and Sadie, the hypocrisy a heavy weight on his shoulders.

And now, apparently there was more.

“Hmm.” Annie nods, still looking into the distance. “Wanted to be a _writer_.” She intones; nothing harsh or dismissive, but that oh-so familiar pitch of _‘well, isn’t that fancy?’_ that’s second nature to half of Yorkshire.

He knows this too, sort of. Knows he wrote a book, knows that he spent time in Italy doing so.

(Knows – even if he can’t remember - he was left in Annie’s care for months when Jack ran back there without a second thought to him.)

“He published one. Have you read it?” She finally glances at him.

“No.” _Yes_. “But I know about it. I know he lived in Italy for a while, but I thought he always planned to come back and take over the farm?”

“Mm,” she growls in that old person way, that could really mean anything. “He didn’t. He never wanted to work the farm; he and Jacob had some terrible fights over it. Had to knock their heads together more than once.”

Robert sits quiet, frowning at his shoes and swallowing carefully.

Annie takes a long pause, and he’s not sure if he wants to hear what she’s about to say; there’s an awful weight to the quiet.

“He only came back for Jacob’s funeral. And he didn’t even attend that properly.” Robert looks up and watches her. “Stood out on the bridge the whole time, watching from a distance like a coward.” She looks at him then, though her eyes are softer than he expected. They’ve had this argument before – how disappointed she was with him for keeping his distance at Jack’s funeral – but she seems to take pity on him now, as he gulps down air and unknown emotion at what she says. “At least he had the decency to turn up to the wake, though.”

He lets her words wash over him as the similarities sink in. They don’t really. It seems impossible.

He wonders if Jack had crept to his father’s gravestone in the dead of night and too, spoke the only words he could get out.

“It was only there that he decided to stay,” she continued. “That he decided he’d step up and take over the farm.”

Perhaps Jack hadn’t needed to.

“That’s where you stopped being alike, I suppose. He took on the responsibility he was given, and you refused to.”

“I didn’t-”

“I know, lad.” She gives him a twitch of a smile. “Can’t say I wasn’t disappointment myself at the time, but there’s more to the world. Can’t blame you for wanting something different from it. I did too, eventually.”

He gives her his own quick, sad smile, and watches the wall as she looks back out the window.

He feels numb.

He thought he’d worked most of it out; the strain between he and his dad. Robert simply wasn’t the son Jack wanted; he didn’t want the right things, didn’t like the right people, didn’t do what was expected of him, was stubborn in all the wrong ways.

But now he finds that all the things he thought made him a disappointment to his dad, where a part of Jack too once, and it throws him. Why could he never understand Robert not wanting to work on the farm? Why did he never listen? Why didn’t he ever show some compassion?

He always thought Jack was disappointed with him because he was too different, but maybe it was because he was too alike?

Robert’s not surprised that talking about Jack brings up more questions than answers, but it doesn’t make it any less heartbreakingly frustrating.

“He was upset with how he’s left things with Jacob,” Annie started again, and whilst Robert knows she looks at him, he’s still watching the wall in a daze. “And I think he felt the same with how he left things with you.”

He looks at her then.

“No matter what else, he would’ve wanted you to be happy.”

It takes a while, but he eventually gives her a small smile.

“Yeah. I think he would.” He hadn’t, for a long time. The longest time. But amongst all the fights, all the disappointment, all the disapproving,   the lashing out, the words never said and secrets never spoken of again, he remembers tight hugs, firm kisses pressed to his head, and gentle words.

Robert’s not sure Jack always loved him, but he knows he didn’t hate him.

And sometimes, _sometimes,_ that’s enough. Now that he’s loved more than ever.

“So, will I meet him?” Robert starts and looks at her with wide eyes; he hadn’t realised he’d even looked away. When he doesn’t offer anything, she continues, looking and sounding bored. “Your boyfriend. Everyone and they’re dog seem to be coming tomorrow, but you haven’t mentioned him.”

Robert’s not sure what to say, or feel. He didn’t think Annie would be the one to bring Aaron up, and he’s still not sure if he wants to talk about him, never mind introduce them. He’s not sure how Annie would really feel about it either; his grandmother’s always had a good control over her reactions.

Even still, it’s automatic for him to reply:

“Fiancé. He’s my fiancé.”

Annie nods. “Right. Diane did mention that.”

And it’s silent again. Robert doesn’t know how to take that, any of this. He’s particularly unprepared after having just been talking about his dad; it’s not often Jack and Aaron are talked about in the same breath, and Robert thinks that’s only fair, to both of them.

He tries waiting it out, but minutes pass and Annie says nothing, barely even moves, so eventually Robert takes the plunge, quiet and head already bowed, fingers playing with the cuffs of his jumper; a habit he knows he’s picked up from Aaron.

“Didn’t know if you’d want to meet him.”

“You’re my grandson.” She replies immediately, firm yet gentle, and apparently the only explanation needed.

Robert has nothing to say in response; he feels a bit raw, and nothing’s really clicking in his head, never mind coming out of his mouth.

So Annie fills the quiet again, indifferent and staring straight ahead.

“There’s a lot of them out there, in Spain.” She doesn’t say _gays_ , but Robert didn’t need her to. “Some of them could be a bit in your face, but there was a couple once that ran a bar near me and Amos. Decent boys.” She pauses, and only continues when Robert looks at her. “I’m old Robert, but I haven’t been living under a rock.”

He huffs a small, sad smile.

“I know. But it’s different when it’s your own, isn’t it?”

She looks up and he’s tempted to look away.

“Yes,” she concedes, looking back at him and making something drop in his stomach; something he hadn’t even been aware of balancing in his gut. “But it doesn’t change that I love you and want you to be happy.” He does look away then, some unpleasant nausea twisting in his chest at the hints of the ever dreaded coming-out acceptance speech that he mostly managed to avoid. He desperately doesn’t want to hear it; wishes he didn’t _need_ to.

“I never thought you’d settle down with a man,” she carries on. “But you are settled, and that’s what matters.”

He looks back and her face is unreadable, or maybe just genuinely bored like she has been most of the day.

Tired.

So very, very tired.

He swallows and gives her a small, wobbly smile with a slight nod. “Maybe.”

“Well, that’s the veg on.” Diane says, stepping back into the room with a wide smile. “Ready for a refill, Annie?”

***

By the looks of it, Aaron’s just finished clearing up dinner when Robert walks in. He glances over his shoulder with a smile as he finishes drying his hands and shoves the towel on the oven door.

“How was it?”

“Weird,” he replies immediately, shrugging off his jacket and putting on the back of the couch. “She was quiet, most of the time. Almost like she was only putting up with us ‘cause she had to.”

“I’m sure that’s not-” Aaron starts with a frown.

“No, it’s just,” he trails off, not so much lost for words as they feel odd to say out loud. “She’s just really ready to die, y’know?”

“Yeah,” he offers quietly, a tiny, sad smile on his face that’s all for Robert and all from experience.

“It’s just weird. Kinda made the whole thing awkward.” He walks over, slumping into a stool at the kitchen counter with a sigh. “It was nice to see her though.”

“Must’ve been strange,” Aaron says as he sits opposite. “After so long.”

“A bit. She hasn’t changed much though,” he looks up with a smile, fingers tracing patterns on the counter. “Still had enough presence of mind to chew me out.”

“Who doesn’t?” Aaron teases with a smile, poking at Robert’s hand. “I’m guessing you ate? I saved some in case, but,”

“Nah, Diane cooked. Came home pretty soon after.”

“Will you be having tea tomorrow too?” He asks as he gets up, peering into the kettle before he takes it to the sink.

“Not sure. I said I’d go see her, but she’s got the whole circus coming ‘round tomorrow, and it might get a bit crowded.”

“Circus?” He raises an eyebrow as he turns back around and switches the kettle on, reaching for cups in a fluid and practised movement.

“Yeah, Vic’s taking Adam over with Moira, and then Andy’ll be bringing Sarah and Jack after school. I think Bernice was planning on dropping in too? Not sure, I stopped listening after a while.”

Aaron snorts. “How caring of you.”

“It’s been a bit of a day, alright?” He sighs with little heat as Aaron places their mugs down and takes his seat again.

Robert wonders what he’s thinking.

Saying it out loud, it’s obvious Robert’s the only one not introducing his family, on what is his final chance to do so, but Aaron doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make any kind of telling face. Just his usual quiet self, ready to listen if Robert wants to talk.

“Do you want to meet her?” He eventually whispers, and Aaron’s eyebrows go up in surprise, lips carefully pulling away from his cup before he’s actually taken a sip.

“What, Annie?”

Robert rolls his eyes. “No, The Queen. Of course Annie.”

There’s a pause, and then a shrug.

“Do you want me to meet her?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

They watch each other for a moment, but Aaron’s eyes dart away before he brings his cup back up to rest near his lips.

“She’s your gran, and she’s important to you. I wouldn’t mind.” He takes a sip.

That’s a _yes_ , then.

“She asked after you.” He offers, finally picking up his own cup.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They leave it there, heavy silence descending on them, though it doesn’t feel so awkward or pressured. It’s not like Robert hadn’t thought about it as soon as Diane said Annie was coming; introducing her to Aaron and Liv, show off his little family and engagement ring in a way that hadn’t even occurred to him to do with Chrissie.

Come to think of it, he didn’t even tell Annie about Chrissie.

But then he didn’t exactly tell her about Aaron either.

It’s a constant state for Robert, caught between wanting to show off and fiercely protect, and it’s only more extreme with Aaron. But as headstrong as Annie is, as much as she’s one to speak her mind, she’s not insensitive, and if Robert hadn’t know that before, he knows that now.

He loves Aaron and he loves her, and he doesn’t always want to feel that his two families are so divided.

“She’s old, and she’s in this funny, grumpy mood. But I’d like it, if you met,” he whispers, hands wrapped around his cup. “If you want to you.”

“You sure?” Aaron ask quietly after a moment, and Robert hates that he’s made Aaron feel like he wouldn’t; like Aaron isn’t the proudest thing in his life.

“Of course I do,” he stresses, looking helpless at him. “I just wasn’t sure…”

“I know,” Aaron wraps his hand around Robert’s wrist, thumb stroking lightly. “I know it’s hard and it’s complicated for you. It’s okay for you to feel like that.”

“But I do want you to meet her. And you seem to want to meet each other, so, if _you’re_ sure…”

“Yeah,” Aaron smiles, thumb still soothing. “I’d really like to.”

Robert smiles back, moving his hand to clasp their fingers together, body a little restless and mind drifting.

“She raised me, for a while.”

“I know,” Aaron whispers, and he does. Robert’s spoken about her before, and in only more depth once he found out that she was coming home. That she was dying. “She’s got a lot to answer for.” He quips gently, and Robert huffs out a surprised laugh.

“I was actually a very sweet kid.” He argues, and Aaron smiles and squeezes his hand.

He knows that too.

***

Robert contemplates waiting a day to go back round, thinking Annie would’ve had enough of visitors on her second day and, as mean as it sounds, he wants her to be as malleable as possible for their meeting.

But he also feels more comfortable with the thought of other distractions, of having a time limit and an excuse in case things don’t go well.

He asks Aaron if he’s free to go round just after lunch, between Adam’s visit and before Andy shows up with the kids.

Aaron says he’ll reschedule the pick-up.

“Liv won’t mind, will she?” Robert asks as he rings the doorbell, turning back to face him. “I thought it’d be a bit much, and I figured she doesn’t really care.”

“She doesn’t,” Aaron agrees with that _sort of_ apologetic smile that he always uses in regards to Liv.

Before anything else can be said, Diane opens the door with a wide smile.

“C’mon in pet,” she ushers, letting Robert pass and squeezing Aaron’s arm in greeting instead kissing his cheek. “You’ve just missed lunch and Adam, but there’s some leftovers if you want some?”

“We’re good thanks, Diane.” Robert answers as he shrugs off his coat.

“Cuppa would be nice though.” Aaron adds, doing the same.

“Coming right up, love,” she smiles, “Go in and make yourself comfortable.” They nod and smile back before heading into the lounge properly, Robert in the lead and Aaron taking a deep breath behind him. He wants to ask if he’s ok, but he knows how he’s feeling.

It strikes him then that they’ve never had to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing. They were pretty well-established in each other’s lives before they’d even met. Robert supposes that’s village life for you, especially one like Emmerdale.

“Hiya, Gran.” He says as he walks over, waiting for a reaction before bending down and kissing her cheek. “How you doing?”

“Much the same as yesterday, lad.” It’s grumbly and tired, and she doesn’t reach out to touch him, but her eyes are alert and focused on him.

“You mind if we sit with you for a bit, have a cup of tea?”

She shakes her head minutely as she peers round him a little, “You brought him then.” She states.

“Er, yeah.” He steps aside, not realising Aaron was so behind him, and sweeps an arm between them. “This is Aaron, my fiancé.”

“Nice to meet you,” he steps forward with his hand out and a nervous smile – that makes Robert want to laugh – and pauses awkwardly before adding, “Ma’am.”

Robert and Annie make the same scoffing noise at him before she takes his hand in her frail one, barely shaking. “Just Annie. And sit down lad, you’re not on parade.”

They both do as told, Aaron’s smile a little shaky but Robert thinks it’s going as well as can be expected. The quiet that follows is a little awkward as she stares intently at Aaron, but Robert just needs a moment to think of a topic they didn’t chat about yesterday.

Annie beats him to it.

“You look a bit like the other one that was just here.”

“Hey,” Robert immediately argues, back going straight as Aaron breaths out a surprised laugh. “I take offense to that!”

Annie snorts at him.

“Aaron and Adam,” Diane says as she walks in with a tray of cups and plates, clearly disregarding what Robert said earlier. “Can get a bit confusing that, can’t it?”

“Excuse me!” They ignore him in favour of little chuckles and reaching for teacups, and even though he’s genuinely offended and doesn’t understand how Aaron isn’t, he lets it go because maybe to Annie’s old and tired eyes, they do look the same.

“What do you do, Aaron?” They all seem mildly surprised that Annie starts the conversation, but after a beat Aaron goes with it, keeping his hands busy by helping Diane hand out slices of cake.

“I work with Adam, actually. At the scrap yard.”

“Robert has a share in their business.” Diane cheerfully adds as she sits down with them.

“Oh, yes. That’s how you two met, isn’t it?”

Robert and Aaron share a look before Aaron answers with a smile, “Something like that.”

Diane takes over then, and Annie goes back to her subdued self, though she seems more present than lost in her own thoughts and memories. With her withdrawn and Aaron being his usual chatty self multiplied by nerves, it’s up to Diane and Robert to carry the conversation, to keep the chatter going so no silences have a chance to sour.

He wonders how much of the last 24 hours Diane’s had to play that role, and if she’s sick of it yet.

He’s thankful she didn’t listen and brought in the left-over cake; it gives Robert something else to focus on, something to do.

It’s also delicious.

Once he’s more settled, Aaron joins in more, makes a clear effort, and though Robert has to keep prodding him to speak louder and clearer than his usual drawl for Annie’s sake, it goes well, even becomes relaxing. Aaron picks at his own cake, out of politeness, but Robert knows it’s too sweet for him before he’s edging it towards him.

Annie doesn’t touch hers.

She remains quiet throughout, but she occasionally adds something, occasionally smiles, and Aaron makes her laugh once. Just once, but Robert thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle and it warms him to his very core.

They don’t stay long, and it becomes obvious when Annie’s tiredness starts to slip into tired of company, so before it reaches a couple of hours, Robert starts making his excuses.

“Thanks for the tea and cake Diane,” he says as she starts to clear up.

“Anytime, pet. Vic really is a talent isn’t she.” She directs to Annie, but she’s unresponsive again so Robert stands before the silence can settle.

“Let me help.”

Diane smiles at him, and then he smiles at Aaron to let him know he won’t be long. He doesn’t want to leave him alone too long, aware of how uncomfortable the quiet could get for him, but takes a moment to thank Diane again, and ask how Annie’s been.

It’s taking its toll on Diane, but she’s fine for the time being. She’ll tell Robert if that changes.

He leaves her to fill the sink up and is about to walk back into the room, a segue to goodbyes on his lips, when Annie speaks, voice quiet and rough from age and disuse.

“Take care of my lad.”

Robert’s heart stops.

“Of course,” Aaron answer softly, a sincere tone that Robert knows to mean he wants to say something else, _more_ , but he doesn’t. There’s a pause, and he wonders if it’s safe to go in now, even though he feels rooted. But, “And thank you,” Aaron speaks again. “I know it’s nothing to do with me, and he’s your grandson, but, thank you. For taking care of him, when he was younger.”

He falls gently against the wall. He can’t see much from this angle, just a sliver of the back of Annie’s head. He swallows thickly as she nods.

“I’m glad he’s happy.”

They fall silent again, the echoes of Annie’s wistful tone keeping it light.

Robert’s thumb strokes over his engagement ring.

Now’s the time to walk in, the perfect time to part. And he will. As soon as he feels less raw.


End file.
